


"Have you eaten?"

by Mallend



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-29 04:26:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18218192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mallend/pseuds/Mallend
Summary: Changgu is a student worker at the university library with a passion for music. Hui is workaholic likewise passionate about music who forgets to eat or sleep. But Changgu also happens to be one of those people who automatically takes care of others.





	"Have you eaten?"

Changgu looked up from the cart of books he was sorting onto the library shelves. That studyholic was back again. He was standing in front of the empty front desk rocking back and forth on his heels and occasionally running his fingers through his vibrant orange hair. When he started to turn his head back and forth, looking around for someone to help him, Changgu remembered that he was the only one still on duty at this hour.

Life of a part-time student worker. That’s what you do when you’re a washed up musical wannabe, he thought sadly.

He put down the war novels he was shelving and headed over to the desk. The orange-haired fellow’s eyes lit up when he saw help coming. “Hi, sorry to bother you at this hour. I need to look at newspapers from 1946.”

“Sure thing,” Changgu smiled warmly as he motioned for the student to follow him to the archival section in the back of the library. “Right this way. And it’s no bother, it’s always nice to see a— face...around here...when it’s usually so empty.” He’d been about to say ‘a familiar face’ but he’d actually never seen the guy outside of the library and he didn’t want to sound like a stalker.

So instead he sounded awkward. Great character development. Hopefully he could laugh at himself looking back on it.

There was confused silence as they walked together through the maze of bookshelves.

Change the subject, Changgu, he told himself. It’s not too late to prove that books haven’t ruined your social skills.

“How are those music theory books?” he asked casually. “They’re really, like, in-depth huh?”

“Are you stalking me or something?” the student asked with a short laugh, looking up at him. “How do you know about those?”

“I promise I’m not a stalker,” Changgu hastily assured him. “I don’t even know your name. I just noticed when you checked them out because I’ve been reading through them too on my own time.” Aaaand he’d gone and admitted more about his interest in music than he’d wanted to.

“Really?”

Changgu took two more steps before realizing that the orange head was no longer beside him. He turned back to see him standing there, eyes wide. “Really what?”

“You’re reading them too? Oh, and my name is Hoetaek by the way, but everyone calls me Hui.” Hoetaek—or Hui hurried to walk beside Changgu again. “So you’ve been reading them too? What did you think of chapter sixteen in Han Youngseok’s book? I stayed up all night composing tracks according to the models he explained and-“

“Wait a second, you stay up all night?” Now Changgu was the one who stopped and Hui stopped beside him. “Okay, now that you mention it, you are here an awful lot studying...”

Hui laughed, “To be honest it’s kind of hard for me to sleep. My friend Hyojong says I should just move in here. He promised to come water me and give me sunlight from time to time.”

“Have you eaten?” Changgu looked hard at the student, noticing the rings around his eyes.

“Like...within the last twenty four hours...?” Hui wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“Like within the last six hours.”

“Who in the world eats every six hours?” Hui scoffed.

“Healthy people who aren’t overworking themselves,” Changgu insisted. “Look, the newspapers are right by those machines that look like printers. You wait there, I have food I can bring.”

He spun on his heel and ran back to the front desk where his backpack was. Running in the library was wrong. But so is not eating or sleeping, Changgu told himself. That’s more wrong.

He pulled open his backpack and got out the half sandwich he’d been saving for the bus ride home. Prize in hand, he made his way back to the archives where Hui was waiting.

“I brought you a turkey sandwich,” he smiled. “You sit down and eat while I look for the newspapers.”

“I don’t want to eat your food.”

There was a weakness in the voice of protest that Changgu noticed immediately so he just pushed his new friend into the nearest chair and gave him the sandwich before turning his attention to the newspapers rolls.

The quiet sounds of Hui eating provided a peaceful atmosphere as Changgu pulled out the rolls and latched the first one into the magnifier. He then worked at organizing the rest of the rolls by newspaper name and date.

“So do you compose too?” Hui asked from behind him.

“A little,” Changgu replied. “I’m still new to it all though. That’s why I was trying to read through those music theory books. I don’t think,” Changgu paused, wondering how much he should share. Then he figured that if he was sharing his food, he could probably afford to share his worries too. “I don’t think I’m that good,” he admitted. “I sent in a couple tracks once and they were duds, so now I just keep my music to myself.”

“Oh.” That was all.

There was awkward silence again for a bit as Changgu continued to group the rolls. “Sorry,” he said at last.

“Sorry for what?” Hui wanted to know.

“I don’t know,” Changgu laughed, but it was a forced laugh and he was sure Hui could tell.

There was silence again as he finished setting up the rolls. “Okay, everything’s ready,” he announced cheerfully. Hui came over to stand beside him and Changgu showed him how to view the film with the magnifier. All the while his thoughts were still on those rejected tracks. He’d thought they were good, great even, his best works at the time. So why weren’t they good?

Or perhaps the real question was why couldn’t he tell that they weren’t good enough? Why didn’t he know good music?

That had been last year. Since then he’d kept making music, working harder than before, but now he was worried. Worried that it would never be good enough to share. All his work was done to try to overcome that and to learn what other people thought was good music, but it was draining his creative spark. Music was becoming work like anything else instead of his escape.

“Hey, I hope you don’t mind my asking,” Hui said slowly, still focused on the newspaper, “but could I listen to some of your tracks?”

“M-my tracks?” Changgu was startled. He’d given up hoping that someone would actually want to hear his works, not just tolerate listening to them.

“Yeah. I’m always interested in hearing new stuff. What kind of music do you make?”

“Uh lately kinda smooth beats. Nothing exciting,” Changgu felt the need to warn his potential audience. “Honestly it’s not that good.”

“Are you saying that because you think it’s not good or because someone else told you it’s not good?” Hui wanted to know.

Changgu didn’t answer, just pulled out his phone and opened his music files. There was his latest project at the top of the list. It was something he’d made for himself, guided by what he liked instead of any of the formulas he’d been trying to follow lately. Maybe too personal. But he was tired of hiding himself. There were butterflies in his stomach as he pressed ‘play’.

As the first low guitar notes were released, Changgu saw Hui out of the corner of his eye leave the newspaper and come stand beside him. The slow and mellow tune floated up and created a soothing atmosphere around the two alone in the library.

Changgu remembered all the nights he’d spent pouring into this track. He’d wanted to capture the feeling of arriving home at the end of a long day - the way he felt hugging his mom when he came in the door after his library shift set him free. He’d crafted a melody that made him feel warm and cherished and set it to instruments that he felt conveyed that feeling best. The result was- well he loved it. But would anyone else?

He looked at Hui. The student had his eyes closed, listening deeply. As they reached the final strains of the song, Changgu felt the butterflies again as he waited for Hui’s response.

Hui slowly opened his eyes like he was waking up from a long nap and had forgotten where he was. “I think I... actually felt... comfortable,” he said with a touch of awe in his voice. “Like I could sleep for the first time in forever— Can you please send me that track?” he begged, grabbing Changgu’s arm and looking up at him pleadingly. “I need it.”

Changgu was stunned trying to process what had just happened. But here was someone asking him for something so his natural response tumbled out. “Of c-course you can have it. Ah, what’s your email? I’ll send it over right away.”

“Oh thank you,” Hui beamed. “And could you send your other tracks over too? I’m curious about your style, it seems to have a warm and friendly feel. Like you do,” he added, smiling.

Changgu smiled back, “Thanks. That’s the kind of music I’m hoping to make.”

And now he knew it was true.

He wanted to make music that would help people feel comforted and safe and rested. Not just music that fit the radio formula. Helping Hui, Changgu realized he’d found himself.

He turned back to the newspaper rolls. “Let’s finish up here so you can get to sleep then,” he said. “Oh, and you’ll have to give me your number so I can make sure you’re eating.”

Behind him he heard Hui laugh happily and he felt warm inside. Satisfied.


End file.
